On Christmas day I weep
\nGood Friday to rejoice.
\nI watch the Child asleep.
\nDoes he half-dream the choice
\nThe Man must make and keep?
\nAt Christmastime I sigh
\nFor my good Friday hope
\nOutflung the Child’s arms lie
\nTo span in their brief scope
\nThe death the Man must die.
\nCome Christmastide I groan
\nTo hear Good Friday’s pealing.
\nThe Man, racked to the bone,
\nHas made His hurt my healing,
\nHas made my ache His own.
\nSlay me, pierced to the core
\nWith Christmas penitence
\nSo I who, new-born, soar
\nTo that Child’s innocence,
\nMay wound the Man no more.<\/p>\n
–Vassar Miller (1924-1998)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
On Christmas day I weep Good Friday to rejoice. I watch the Child asleep. Does he half-dream the choice The Man must make and keep? At Christmastime I sigh For my good Friday hope Outflung the Child’s arms lie To…<\/span><\/p>\n